


Of Misnomers and Makalaurë

by Natasha_Rostova



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha_Rostova/pseuds/Natasha_Rostova
Summary: Makalaurë feels as if he is undeserving of the name "gold-cleaver."





	Of Misnomers and Makalaurë

In the quiet of the morning, Maitimo often found himself in the manor’s library. The seemingly endless shelves and well worn books brought him comfort, and provided a slow start to his day. 

Along with the comfort of the books themselves, Makalaurë often met up with this brother in the early hours, and they would sit by the fireplace and read in silence, for there was an understanding between them. Some quiet sense of peace, and affection. Although he would never admit it, Maitimo had a softer spot for Makalaurë. Kano was quiet and kind hearted, and often too sensitive. Maitimo thought by spending quiet hours with him, he could ease Makalaurë’s tireless mind. And perhaps the company of this brother could ease his mind as well.

This morning however, Makalaurë had arrived first. 

Curled up in the corner of the couch, Makalaurë was absorbed in a large book. Eyebrows furrowed and hunched over, Makalaurë radiated tense energy, far from his usual gentle demeanor. 

Upon moving closer, Maitimo find the subject of the large book. It was their atar’s forge notes. The lengthy journal he had kept when first learning his craft. Their atar had kept these notes and often read these notes for leisure, keeping it as a novel in the library. Atarine had also studied this novel, creating notes of his own. Although Maitimo had read it though once or twice, he had found it uninteresting and tetious. So why then, was Makalaurë pouring over it? He was so absorbed, it seemed like he didn’t even hear Maitimo enter.

“Are you looking for a reason to be bored?” Breaking the silence, Maitimo sat himself near his brother, Makalaurë jumped slightly, before meeting Maitimo’s gaze. Although Maitimo's expression was shifted into a bright smile, Makalaurë only seemed more distressed. 

“You startled me.” Despite usually having a delightful disposition, Makalaurë seemed annoyed. 

“Well perhaps if you relaxed a little you’d notice my entrance.” Makalaurë huffed, and shifted his attention back to his book. 

“I’m being serious, Mai” Maitimo halted his jest. Makalurë softened his shoulders. Maitimo could see the instant guilt that pulled at his brother. Makalaurë sighed and faced Maitimo.

“I'm sorry. I'm just- I don’t understand any of this. All of it just dances around my head and- and means nothing.” Makalaurë slammed the book shut and pulled it to his chest. “I’ve reread this book a hundred times. I have thought of nothing else for weeks. I have read. And studied. And tried so so hard.” His voice cracked, and his hands shook as they held the book with vigor . “I just. I cannot understand any of it.” His eyes were squeezed shut, as tears leaked down his face anyway.

“Makalaurë-” Maitimo desperately wanted to console his brother, whatever the outburst was about Maitimo wanted to help, yet Makalaurë interrupted him.

“You see! That’s the problem!” Makalaurë stood now, tossing their atar’s book on the couch, “Perhaps Ammë named me wrong. Perhaps I could ask for a new name!” He waved his arms about, voice cracked with half sobs as he spoke.

“What are you talking about?” Confused, Maitimo stood now, making his way towards his brother.

“Makalaurë! Gold-cleaver! How am I supposed to- I can’t- I don’t even understand basic-” By now his rant had turned into mindless sob ridden ramblings, hands rubbing and wiping at his face.

“Kano. Hey,” Maitimo stood next to his brother, wrapping an arm around his shaking form. “Ammë didn’t name you wrong. A name is simply what you make of it.” Maitimo coaxed Makalaurë back to the couch before he continued, “You make the name, not the other way around.” Makalurë shook as they sat, sobbing into his hands. 

“What will atar think?” With his voice merely a whisper, Makalaurë aired his true concern. “What will he say when the “gold cleaver” is useless as a smith?” Maitimo wrapped his brother in a tighter hug.

“He will be proud that you can make gold from nothing. You can create wonders with only your song.” Maitimo rubs circles into his brothers back, “You can create gold from thin air.” Makalaurë sighs, and buries his face into Maitimo’s shoulder. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Voice muffled, Makalaurë questioned. Maitimo pulled away from the hug so he may stare at his brother, eyes mischievous.

“Because secretly you’re my favorite” Maitimo whispered, before he ruffed Makalaurë’s hair with a breathless laugh. “But you can’t tell anyone.” Despite his red tear stained face and dripping nose, Makalaurë smiled back.

-

“What’s got you all dazed?” Maglor’s voice shifts Maedhros back to reality. The fireplace crackles as the air stings with a sharp cold. Maedhros shakes his head, before pulling his blanket further over Elros. The drawing room is silent as the twins sleep on the couch.

“Nothing, nothing,”. Maedhros gazes at his brother, “I was just being nostalgic. That’s all.” Maglor smiles slightly.

“Really. I did not know you were capable of such things.” Maglor’s eyes sparkle with the light of the fireplace. A childlike wonder hidden behind them.

“You’d be surprised dear Makalaurë.” Maglor laughs breathlessly. Shifting his attention to Elrond’s sleeping form curled against his lap. Maglor has a wistful smile painted across his features as he lightly brushes Elrond’s hair.

“Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive any errors. I'm currently traveling and editing this on my phone.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudo if you enjoyed!


End file.
